


Hold You By The Edges

by Exorin, sequence_fairy



Series: I Will Cradle All These Memories [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: First Kiss, Frottage, M/M, brunch date, but this is where we are at this week, super soft above-the-belt make outs, which is not usually our go-to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23546608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exorin/pseuds/Exorin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: Shane’s got one knee on the couch when they separate. He’s crowding over Steven, pressing him back into the cushions. There’s a delicate flush on Steven’s cheeks, his mouth still slightly parted when Shane pulls away. “You’re sure this is okay?” Shane asks, sliding onto the couch beside Steven without breaking the contact of his hand against Steven’s face.Instead of answering, Steven’s leaning in again, nodding yes with his eyes gently closed.Shane gently stops him with a hand on his chest and waits until Steven’s eyes flutter open again. “Hey, I need you to say it out loud for me,” Shane says, his voice so low and careful.A brunch date. A coast drive. Some kissing.
Relationships: Steven Lim/Shane Madej
Series: I Will Cradle All These Memories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702111
Comments: 26
Kudos: 74





	Hold You By The Edges

**Author's Note:**

> Cara and I got very soft about Steven and Shane this week. Shout-outs to the usual suspects, your encouragement is deeply appreciated.

Shane wakes to his phone ringing. He rolls over in bed to grab it from his charger on the bedside table. He answers before checking the number. “Hey,” he mumbles, his voice sleep-scratchy and low. 

“Oh, did I wake you?” Steven is very obviously awake. Shane should have known it was Steven. It’s far too early on a Sunday to be Ryan.

“Yeah, but it’s all good,” Shane answers, sitting up in his bed and looking over, bleary eyed, at his alarm clock - it’s just after eight and the L.A. sunshine is already trying it’s best to get through his dark bedroom curtains. “What’s up?” 

“I was going to go for brunch in about an hour,” Steven says. He pauses for just a beat too long before continuing, “wanted to see if you were interested in joining.”

“Nine in the morning is not  _ brunch _ Steven. That’s breakfast.” Shane yawns into the side of his hand.

Steven’s smile is audible on the other side of the phone. He doesn’t say anything else. Shane’s stomach rumbles and makes the decision for him.

“Alright,” Shane says, rubbing at the side of his face and up into his hair with the hand not holding his phone. “I’m up.” 

“Meet you outside at 9:30?”

“Sure, yeah,” Shane agrees, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and standing up into a full stretch. His body complains about moving this early on a day of rest, but this is the first time Steven has reached out to him to hang out outside of the Watcher office and it’s too early for Shane to be an asshole about it and also Shane doesn’t really want to discourage this. “I can manage that. See you in 40.” 

Shane’s pretty sure he falls asleep staring into the mirror with his toothbrush hanging from his lips for a full ten minutes before managing to finish; he pats his hair down and makes the executive decision to forgo a shower in lieu of making himself a large batch of coffee. 

When Steven buzzes the apartment right before nine-thirty, Shane is still struggling to finish getting dressed. He’s trying to manage it one-handed, so he doesn’t have to stop taking sips from his Professor mug. He stumbles to the door, one shoe on but still unlaced, and his shirt only half over his head. 

“Hey,” he says, letting the door swing wide and sounding much more awake than he had been less than an hour ago. “Good timing! ‘M almost ready.” 

Steven takes a small step into Shane’s space and reaches out to take the mug from Shane’s hand. “I can hold this for you.” Steven smiles. 

Shane grins back at him before sinking all the way down to the floor to pull his other shoe on, readjusting his shirt on the way.

“Where are we headed?” he asks, looking up at Steven while loosely lacing up first one shoe and then the other. “I don’t even know what’s open this early on a Sunday. This is an entirely new time zone for me.” 

“No way Shane, you’re not going to ruin my enjoyment of watching someone discover a new brunch spot by Googling it before we even get there.”

“I would  _ never _ ,” Shane says, mock hurt in his voice with his hand slapping down over his heart. “Ow,” Shane complains, making a face at his own hand. “I seem to have forgotten how to control my own limbs, I don’t think you have to worry about me Googling anything right now.”

“I’m still not going to tell you, you’ll have to trust me.” Steven is still smiling, light and easy, effortlessly relaxed in the doorway of Shane’s apartment and it makes Shane’s stomach flip. It’s too easy to imagine him here, more often. And, it’s far too soon for that kind of thinking at all. Shane chalks his wandering brain up to the early hour and the lack of caffeine. 

Eventually, they get out the door and Steven matches Shane’s pace down the long hallway to the stairwell at the far end. At the bottom, Steven pushes the stairwell door open and Shane blinks in the bright sunlight. 

“Shoulda brought my shades,” he says, lifting a hand to his face. 

“Got an extra pair in the car,” Steven says. They walk across the parking lot together, shoulder to shoulder, and Shane doesn’t think anything about that at all.

The ride to Steven’s secret bunch spot is both too short and also interminable. Shane’s fine at being in cars, but being in Steven’s car on a Sunday feels just over the edge of too much; he’s very aware of how his knees are bent up against the dash, folded in on himself to take up less space and even when Steven laughs, quiet and quick, and tells him he can adjust the seat, he doesn’t.

When they pull into a rare free parking space on a small side street off the beaten path, Shane is still not sure what to expect. He maneuvers his way out of the car, shutting the door behind him before turning to look at Steven with an eyebrow raised. “Is there where you kill me?” 

Steven laughs again and it sends warmth spreading throughout Shane’s chest. During the first several months where they were very seriously setting up Watcher, Steven didn’t laugh a whole lot. Not knowing Steven as well as Ryan did had made it hard for Shane to get a solid read on the guy, but lately he’s been smiling so much more, responding to jokes and jumping into bits during filming. Every single time it makes Shane feel lighter and he knows that the smile he aims at Steven right now is far softer than he usually allows.

“Not here,” Steven grins back, walking around his car to come to stand in front of Shane, he tilts his head up and drops his voice, leaning in, “not until after brunch at least, I would never deny someone a tasty last meal.” 

Shane huffs out a laugh and follows Steven. 

===

When they get seated on the patio of the small, hidden restaurant that Steven’s brought them to, Shane's knees brush up against Steven’s. The table is small, but they’re out of the way, so it’s quiet. Shane shifts his chair back a little and splays out his legs in an attempt to make Steven more comfortable. Steven’s knee still brushes against the inside of Shane’s knee. 

“What do you recommend?” Shane asks, groping for a conversation instead of thinking about the press of Steven’s knee.

“It’s all so good, you won’t be able to make a wrong choice.”

Shane asks the server for their favourite item instead of browsing the menu; he’s still only had one coffee and he doesn’t want to make any sort of decisions until he’s had at least two more. Steven watches him while he orders, shaking his head with a little smile and ordering what sounds like an incredibly fancy eggs benedict. 

Shane’s rarely a morning guy but when he manages, he really appreciates the softness of L.A at this hour. It’s a rare time when the streets aren’t yet crowded and you can still hear the birdsong instead of traffic. 

Shane feels quiet and relaxed by the time the coffee is set down at their table and he catches Steven looking at him over the rim of his mug. “This is nice.” he says, nudging Steven’s knee with his own and smiling when Steven nudges him back. “Thank you for the invite.”

“This is probably my favourite part of the day,” Steven starts, taking a small sip of his Vietnamese iced coffee and sighing, long and low and pleased at the taste. “I know I’ve said it before,” he laughs and takes another sip, “but brunch just feels like the best time to make memories you’ll keep with you forever, you know?” 

Honestly, Shane isn’t sure what to do with how soft and sincere Steven’s voice is so he merely nods in agreement and takes another long drink from his mug of coffee.

They make easy small talk while their food is made and it strikes Shane just how comfortable this really is, spending time outside of work with Steven is simple and enjoyable. The energy feels so different from what it’s like with Ryan, who’s always on and always setting up the next bit - not that Shane minds that at all, obviously - but there’s something calming and relaxed about Steven. It makes Shane feel soft at the edges, so much so that he finds himself leaning in against the pressure of Steven’s knee resting against his own. 

By the time their brunch arrives they’ve swung back around from idle chit chat to talking about Watcher Entertainment without it actually feeling like they’re discussing work.

Steven beams up at their waitress when she returns with two plates. He cuts her off when she starts to apologize for the wait. “Oh no, no apology necessary, you can’t rush this kind of perfection.”

She laughs softly at Steven’s obvious sincerity while she refills Shane’s coffee. Shane can’t stop what he knows is a look of overt softness that crosses his face as Steven lifts his plate up to smell his brunch. He sips his coffee, watching from over the rim as Steven changes the angle of the plate and looks at his benedict from all the angles, “Do you do this with every meal?”

“It’s like art on a plate, how can you not?” Steven asks, glancing up to catch Shane’s eye, “Look how perfect this is! The exact right ingredients all lined up to make something that’s both pleasing to look at and super delicious.” 

“You haven’t tried it yet,” Shane says, grinning from the level of sheer contagious happiness that radiates off of Steven. “It could be terrible.” 

Steven places the plate down and reaches for his fork. “You’re right,” he says and slips his fork down through the layers of hollandaise, egg, bacon, avocado, and english muffin in an easy slide. He makes a low sound at the back of his throat that causes Shane’s entire body to stiffen briefly, his mind unhelpfully supplying that he’s just heard Steven moan. 

Shane sets his mug down carefully and drags his hand through his hair. He considers averting his eyes when Steven lifts the fork to his mouth and opens it around the sizable bite but he can’t seem to look away. 

Steven hums around the bite, his eyes fluttering closed as the fork slips free from between his lips; he starts to chew and Shane zeros in on the way his jaw moves, at the way his throat bobs slightly when he swallows. He can feel the heat that spreads out across his cheeks and hopes beyond anything that Steven won’t notice his flush when he opens his eyes again. 

“Oh  _ wow _ ,” Steven says, after he’s swallowed; his voice is low and close to something Shane would call reverent. He slowly blinks his eyes open to meet with Shane’s across the table. “That’s incredible. How’s yours?”

Shane hasn’t touched his plate yet, but he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt, that no matter how good his food is, it’s not going to be better than what he’s just witnessed. “I don’t know if it’ll be as good as yours, based on that reaction,” he says instead, leaning into the safe middle ground of brunch discussion. 

Steven smiles at him and it reaches all the way up to his eyes. “Want to try mine?” he asks and Shane can feel himself nodding before he’s made the conscious decision. 

Shane doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not Steven slicing through another portion of his meal and then bringing his own fork up very carefully between the two of them. 

Shane leans forward, the movement bringing their legs together more firmly underneath the small table; he opens his mouth as the fork gets close and maintains eye contact with Steven when it slips in between his lips. He has to shut his eyes from how charged this moment feels, but he can still feel Steven’s gaze tracking along his face as he chews and swallows. Shane licks his lips and his eyes flutter open just in time to see Steven’s quick glance back up from where he was watching. 

“Good?” Steven says, so quiet that Shane just barely catches the slight hitch in his breath, and isn’t that interesting. 

“Yeah,” Shane agrees, his voice sounding just as low and rough as Steven’s. 

They fall into an easy and companionable silence for the rest of their meal although Shane can’t help but zone in on Steven every time he makes the slightest satisfied noise around his fork. 

===

“Do you want to head back?” Steven asks after they’ve paid and left the restaurant.

Shane feels full and happy and like he could easily go home to curl back up in his sheets for a lazy Sunday, but there’s still this charged energy in the air and he’s never been very good at leaving things alone. It’s almost like the feeling you get right before a storm catches you unawares. 

“It’s still early.” he says, shrugging with one shoulder and smiling easily. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I was thinking of a drive, maybe?” Steven suggests as they approach his car. He stops at the passenger side first and unlocks the door there; Shane has a moment where he wonders if Steven is about to get the door for him but Steven just opens the door to lean in and adjust the seat back in a way that’s sure to give Shane’s long legs ample room.

Shane notes that he leaves the door open with a quick blink-and-he’d-miss-it smile before circling around to the driver’s side. 

When Shane slides into the seat he stretches out with a sigh, enjoying the space, “A drive sounds nice,” he says, relaxing back against his headrest with his head turned to watch Steven getting in on the driver’s side.

Steven hands Shane the aux cord connected to his sound system without looking over and starts the engine with a twist of his wrist; it’s just past noon and currently sitting at the perfect temperature to roll the windows down. 

Shane stares blankly at the cord in his hand, glancing between it and his phone. He usually feels pretty good about his taste in music but there’s something very stressful about choosing a song to start a trip - he settles on something soft but off the beaten path enough that there’s a non-existent chance that Steven will recognize the singer. 

They drive away from the city and towards the ocean, keeping off of the main roads as much as possible; Steven taps his fingers against the wheel alongside Shane’s music choices and hums under his breath with the chorus of any song where the baseline repeats more than once. 

Shane could fall asleep like this - with the soft sounds of Steven’s humming, even (and especially, if he’s honest) when it’s off-rhythm, and with the wind and the distant sound of waves hitting the shore but instead sleeping he leans back against the headrest and watches Steven drive. 

“Do you do this a lot?” he asks, catching Steven’s eyes briefly in the rearview mirror; he’s turned the music down low enough that it’s merely background noise to whatever Steven says. 

“Drive along the coast?” Steven questions. He looks over at Shane with another quick and easy smile. Warmth spreads all throughout Shane’s chest. “Yeah, it’s not the same as driving around country roads back home but it’s the best way I’ve found to ground myself after a long week or when I need to figure something out.” 

“I suddenly feel like I’m intruding.”

Steven exhales, just a soft sound underneath all of the other noises. “You’re not,” he says, keeping his eyes straight on the road in front of them. “I really enjoy your company, Shane.” 

Shane looks out the passenger side window to hide his smile. “Yours too, Steven.” 

The two of them fall back into an easy silence and Shane turns the music back up, enjoying the scenery as it speeds past. 

They drive almost an hour out of the city before Steven signals into a turn and brings them back around but Shane’s not quite ready for the day to end yet. “Come up for a drink?” he asks and Steven meets his eyes again.

“I’d like that.”

It’s already almost two when they finally pull up to Shane’s apartment, which is also when the clear and bright Los Angeles skies make the completely arbitrary decision to open up and into a sudden, sunny downpour.

Shane wonders if this is what he could feel in the air earlier or if there’s something else still hovering just over the horizon. 

===

The rain shower is over just as fast as it started. A cloudburst in the truest sense. There’s still enough sun for Shane to see Steven’s shadow on the pavement as they make the mad dash for the front door of Shane’s building. 

They stand in the lobby panting together. Shane grins at Steven, and then they’re laughing at each other. Steven’s laugh is like the rest of him, and Shane’s certainly glad he can now catalogue that this one is the kind of breathless that speaks to the remnants of the burst of adrenaline you get from running across a parking lot in the rain. 

Shane fishes out his keys, and lets them in. Steven follows him through the door and then into the elevator. Inside, they both lean on opposite sides. Shane looks down at his feet. Just at the edge of his field of vision, are the toes of Steven’s shoes. 

When the elevator dings at Shane’s floor, Steven gets out before him, and Shane trails after him down the hall. Steven knows where he’s going, he was just here this morning, walked this same path. Shane can’t help noticing the cling of Steven’s shirt to his shoulders, can’t help seeing the sharp line of Steven’s shoulder blades outlined now that the shirt is damp enough to cling to other places too. 

Steven stops in front of Shane’s door, and then leans on the wall, waiting for Shane to catch up. His eyes are bright when he catches Shane’s gaze, contentment bleeding through his entire posture. Shane doesn’t like to compare his friends, overmuch, but Steven’s relaxed lean is so different from the way Ryan would be wired for sound after a day like today. Even the fact that Steven’s been quiet since the bubble of laughter in the lobby is different. 

Shane lets them into his apartment and toes off his shoes at the door. Steven follows suit, and then reaches up to pick at the front of his shirt. His mouth twists briefly. 

“Eugh,” Shane grimaces, tugging off his own outer layer, and hanging the shirt on the doorknob. “You want something dry to wear?” 

“That’d be great, if it’s not too much trouble?” 

Shane leads Steven through his apartment, pointing out the bathroom on the way down the hall towards his bedroom. “Back in a sec,” he says. When he steps into his room he takes a long, slow breath, in and then out, before heading over to his set of drawers - he discards the rest of his soaked through clothing on the way, tossing it into one of his laundry baskets. 

He finds a well-worn pair of grey sweatpants that can be easily rolled at the hems for Steven and one of his old Buzzfeed Unsolved shirts because he can’t help himself. Shane makes a conscious effort to not think about how Steven will look in his clothes while he quickly changes into something dry. 

Steven’s holding his wet shirt away from his stomach when Shane returns, he looks very damp and very uncomfortable. He takes the bundle of clothes from Shane with a quiet  _ thank you _ and steps fully into the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind him.

Shane stands outside the door for a full minute before realizing how awkward it would be for him to still be hovering there when Steven emerges. He steps back and then follows the hall down towards his kitchen to look through his cupboards for something fancier than the beer he currently has in his fridge; he thinks that he can hear Steven’s laughter from the bathroom and he smiles to himself.

Steven finds him in the kitchen a few minutes later. 

“Hey,” he says, voice soft to keep from startling Shane where he’s reaching, easily, up to the highest shelf above his fridge to slide an unopened bottle of bourbon towards the edge.

“Oh hey-” Shane starts, getting a hold of the bottle and turning to face Steven; he freezes, looking across the small space to where Steven is standing, fidgeting with the hem of Shane’s Unsolved shirt. The grey sweats are slung low on his hips, the cuffs rolled up at least three times at the bottom to just above Steven’s bare ankles - his hair is still damp, silver streaks sticking up in towel-dried disarray and it takes Shane a moment to remember that he’s supposed to be breathing. “Hey,” he tries again, putting the bourbon down on the counter, “you want that drink?”

“Sure, I can have one.” 

“You know,” Shane says, pulling down two rocks glasses and setting them on the counter before opening the freezer to retrieve the ice tray. “Ryan’s not gonna believe this happened, he’ll think we’re making it up for the show.” 

Steven leans his hip against the counter, the corner of his mouth tilted up into a small, slow blooming smile that reaches his eyes and makes them shine brightly. “He did seem pretty adamant about us not hanging out,” Steven begins, putting his hand over the top of one of the glasses before Shane adds ice to stop him. “Just straight for me,” he pauses briefly, gaze flicking up to catch Shane’s, “d’you think he’ll mind?” 

Shane looks down at Steven, who’s standing so much closer to him now and nods, pouring two fingers of bourbon into each glass. “We don’t have to tell him,” Shane suggests. He’s not sure when he dropped his voice down into a conspiratorial whisper but he doesn’t mind the way it makes Steven lean a little closer just to hear him. He doesn’t mind  _ at all _ . 

“We don’t,” Steven agrees, something almost sly in the edge of his mouth and Shane’s breath gets caught somewhere in the back of his throat. There’s something about the way Steven’s looking up at him, guileless but willing to conspire, that makes Shane very aware that all of a sudden, he wants to kiss Steven. 

“Uh, Steven, not to be weird or anything,” Shane starts, bringing his hand up between them, his fingertips reaching to gently trace the edge of Steven’s smile; he moves slow, waiting between breaths and giving Steven as much time as he’d need to pull back, to step away. When he doesn’t, Shane bends, just a little, and says, “but I’d really like to kiss you right now.” 

Steven makes a soft, breathy noise that sounds like the shape of  _ okay _ and Shane leans the rest of the way to touch their lips together in a quick, gentle slide. It’s just a chaste caress but it sends tingling little shockwaves down and along all of Shane’s limbs. 

When Shane shifts back, Steven follows, he presses up onto his toes with one hand coming up to curl around Shane’s shoulder and the other pressed firm against the counter to brace himself and this time, Steven kisses Shane. It’s slower, more purposeful, their lips fitting between each other in a sweet slide that makes Shane exhale in a shuddering breath against Steven’s mouth. 

“Hey,” Shane says, voice so low with his lips still touching down against Steven’s; his hand has moved from Steven’s face, pressed down over his collarbone instead with his thumb tracing over the slight rise of bone. “Is this okay?” he asks, his free hand tracing down Steven’s body to curl loosely around his hip.

Steven nods, just a slight movement that skims their lips together again and makes Steven’s breath come out trembling. “Living room?” he suggests, pressing back down to the floor and letting his hand fall from Shane’s shoulder to where Shane’s hand is still tentatively touching his hip - he lays his hand on top of Shane’s before curling his fingers around Shane’s and leading him from the kitchen with their hands still connected. 

Bourbon forgotten, Shane follows. 

“Steve,” Shane says, when they come to a stop. He watches, entranced, as Steven lets go of him and curls up onto the couch with his legs folded up underneath of him. The early afternoon sun filters in through the blinds and makes everything look soft and still. Shane feels like all of the air has been driven from his lungs at how comfortable and relaxed Steven looks, sitting on Shane’s couch like he belongs there and looking up at Shane with a small, but noticeably nervous smile. “We can just hang out.” 

Steven leans up, coming up on his knees to reach for Shane; he curls his fingers into the fabric of Shane’s shirt and pulls him towards the edge of the couch. “We are hanging out,” he says softly and tilts his head when Shane leans down to meet him. 

They come together again and Shane’s hand presses to Steven’s cheek, his fingertips tracing along Steven’s jaw and curling up and around his ear, thumb stroking over the top ridge of smooth skin. It’s still just the slow slide of their lips over each other. Shane’s breath stutters out when he feels Steven’s mouth part on a long exhale. 

Shane’s got one knee on the couch when they separate. He’s crowding over Steven, pressing him back into the cushions. There’s a delicate flush on Steven’s cheeks, his mouth still slightly parted when Shane pulls away. “You’re sure this is okay?” Shane asks, sliding onto the couch beside Steven without breaking the contact of his hand against Steven’s face.

Instead of answering, Steven’s leaning in again, nodding yes with his eyes gently closed. 

Shane gently stops him with a hand on his chest and waits until Steven’s eyes flutter open again. “Hey, I need you to say it out loud for me,” Shane says, his voice so low and careful. Steven flushes deeper, looking down and away before slowly looking back at Shane.

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Steven breathes out in response. His hand is shaking where it’s still clutching Shane’s shirt. He sighs Shane’s name against the shape of Shane’s mouth when Shane follows the slight tug forward to bring their lips together again. 

This time when Steven’s lips part against the slow moving kiss, Shane tilts his head to the side and dips his tongue out, drawing a slow line between the space. Steven moans, a low sound that shakes free from deep in his chest and reverberates through Shane so hard that Shane has to pull back again. He catches Steven’s eyes about to ask, for the fourth time, if Steven is okay when Steven shudders. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Steven says, into the barest space between them. 

Shane has to close his eyes, squeezing them shut, because he can't both look at Steven and think when he sounds like that. 

He reaches up to curl his fingers under Steven’s chin, tilting his head up as he fits their mouths together and when Steven parts his lips again, pushing forward, Shane finally sweeps his tongue into the heat of Steven’s mouth. 

Steven moans again, the sound getting swallowed by the slide of Shane’s tongue against his and Steven shifts on the couch, bringing his second hand up to tangle into Shane’s shirt alongside the first, holding Shane still against him as he presses his tongue out and against Shane’s in a not-so-tentative, but still slow slide.

Shane’s fingers, still curled under Steven’s chin slip back down to his collarbone, his thumb tracing along the edge his own shirt on Steven, dipping underneath to swipe along the bare skin at the base of Steven’s throat; he holds his thumb there, feeling the quickening rise and fall of Steven breathing. He moves his other hand between them, wrapping his long fingers around Steven’s wrist, his index and middle finger pressed down against Steven’s pulse point. 

When Shane leans away again, Steven makes a frustrated noise and chases after Shane’s mouth. He uses the fists curled into Shane’s shirt to drag him back in. “Shane,” he groans, his voice husky and raw and drawing out the sound of the vowels until Shane is smiling against the corner of Steven’s mouth. 

“You good?” Shane questions, noting that his voice is just as soft and ruined as Steven’s. 

“Very,” Steven says and then he pushes at Shane, urging Shane to lean back against the couch; Steven shifts, following him back. His leg slides up and along Shane’s before he’s pulling himself over, climbing onto Shane to kneel astride his hips and hover over his lap. 

Shane’s breath punches out of him in a shaky moan at Steven’s sudden boldness, his hands falling easily to Steven’s hips and holding him still. “What are we doing here, Steven?” Shane asks, trying desperately to not to tug Steven’s body down to be flush against his.

Steven leans in, his mouth so close to Shane’s that Shane can taste the sweetness of his breath from their brunch earlier. “I thought we were kissing,” he says and presses in to slide his mouth over Shane’s again. 

Steven lowers himself slowly and Shane holds his breath, afraid to move, and desperately waiting for Steven to settle fully into his lap. Shane can feel himself trembling, and he exhales in a shudder against the kiss when their bodies align. He tries not to notice the thick press of Steven hardening against his hip, struggles to not raise his own hips to press them together in a hard and dirty roll. 

Steven sighs into Shane’s mouth, his tongue sweeping in when Shane groans, and he shifts against Shane’s lap, rolling his hips down in a slow and hesitant grind. He’s breathing hard already, soft puffs of air against Shane’s reddened lips, when he goes back to the gentle and almost chaste kisses from earlier. 

“This feels like more than kissing,” Shane whispers, pressing his lips to the corner of Steven’s mouth and then his cheeks where they’re deeply flushed. “I’m very okay with just kissing Steven, you don’t need to— ”

Steven makes a very small, very vulnerable sound in his throat and Shane hears the click of his throat as he swallows. "Thank you, but—" Steven’s got both of his hands on Shane’s face, fingers stroking against the stubble along Shane’s jaw and holding him still when he leans in to touch his lips down against Shane’s, speaking against his mouth— "but I want to,” he says. “This is more than okay."

Shane’s fingers tighten on Steven’s hips, his thumbs slipping just under the hem of Steven’s borrowed shirt so that he can drag the pads along Steven’s hip-bones. “I’ll follow your lead,” Shane offers, rolling up to meet Steven’s slow grind. 

They find their rhythm slowly and Shane wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Steven’s hands have shifted from Shane’s face to his shoulders and Shane can feel the way his fingers clench and ease against and into the fabric of his shirt. He nudges at Shane’s jaw with his nose, urging his head back and allowing him access to Shane’s throat to drag his mouth along that pale stretch of skin. 

Shane angles his hips, switching the position a little to finally align the hot, thick slide of their cocks together; he feels Steven’s moan against his neck, this soft, gasping sound that drives the heat curling in Shane’s gut straight down to fill out the rest of his cock. “How’s that feel, Steven?” he asks, his face turned to get his mouth close enough to Steven’s ear so that he can whisper the words, low and hot. 

Steven grinds down again, slides his hips forward and back solidly enough to create that perfect drag of friction between them.

Steven leans back, just enough to drag his mouth, open and desperate, against Shane’s; he slips his tongue out and swipes into that wet heat, moaning around the answering push of Shane’s tongue coming out to meet his. 

Shane groans into the kiss, his hands flexing on Steven’s hips. He slides them around to rest low on Steven’s back with his fingertips dipping down just below the waistband of his own sweats sitting low on Steven’s hips.

Steven tenses, it’s brief but Shane can feel the way Steven’s breath trembles out against his lips. “Just this, if that’s okay?”

“More than okay,” Shane starts, his hands sliding up and over Steven’s shirt to come to rest with one high on his spine and the other against the dip of his lower back; he kisses the corner of Steven’s mouth. “I’m fine with whatever you want.”

Steven sighs, long and low against Shane’s mouth, his hips rolling forward to drag them together again.

Shane can’t remember the last time he did this, this slow and steady over-the-clothes grind that’s making his hands shake and his thighs tremble from holding back but, god, Steven feels so good moving against him with his cock hard and pressing down. Shane’s sure that if he could stop kissing Steven for even just a moment to look down he’d find Steven leaking wet through the thin layer of well-worn cotton that’s just barely covering the outline of his cock. 

Steven’s breath hitches into a moan, his hips jerking down hard enough that the rough grind sends sparks shooting up along Shane’s spine. Shane has to swallow down the spit that floods his mouth at that sound. Steven’s hands clench around Shane’s shoulders, his fingertips pressing down with enough force that Shane’s hoping he’ll be able to feel them later. “Are you close?” he asks, nipping along Steven’s jawline towards his ear. “Are you gonna come like this?”

Steven  _ whines _ Shane’s name. 

Steven tucks his face against Shane’s neck, his mouth open and panting against Shane’s throat; he’s gasping and dragging his tongue and teeth against any little bit of skin he can get to. 

He’s curled so closely against Shane’s chest with his hips rolling in desperate little circles, their cocks pressed so tightly together that Shane can feel the throb and pulse of Steven as he tenses in Shane’s lap and groans. “Yeah, c’mon, Steve,” Shane moans, low and muffled against Steven’s shoulder.

Steven’s breath is a soft, stuttering moan of Shane’s name when he jerks in Shane’s arms with one last downward grind and comes between them; he shudders through the aftershocks and Shane can feel the spill of heat even through the two layers that separate them. 

Shane’s cock throbs, twitching up against Steven’s spent and slowly softening cock. Steven startles, pushing himself back with shaky arms; his face is flushed red, lips parted and swollen from all of their kissing, and he’s still breathing hard. 

“Hey,” he starts and swallows around the way his voice cracks on the word. “Hey,” he tries again, catching Shane’s eyes, “what—what can I do?” 

“S’okay,” Shane says, the word just a whispered breath. “You don’t need to do anything.” He shifts under Steven until Steven gets the idea and slowly, shakily, dismounts to sprawl on the couch cushions next to Shane. Shane drops a hand over his own lap, adjusting himself to sit more comfortably. 

Steven’s blushing hard, his hands carefully placed over his lap. “You sure?” he asks. Shane nods, smiling softly. Shane leans in and kisses Steven again, back to the gentle and almost chaste slide of lips meeting. “Shane, I can-”

“I’m good Steven, this was so good,” he says, pressing more kisses to Steven’s mouth, his cheeks, his nose; Steven huffs out a small laugh at the last one. “You were so good.” 

“Next time?” Steven suggests and Shane’s whole body floods with warmth.

“Next time,” Shane agrees, a thrill riding low in his belly at the idea of a next time. He stands from the couch and onto stiff legs. Shane stretches, adjusting his pants where they’re bunched up around him. “How about that drink?” 

“I should…” Steven starts, hesitating briefly when he moves to stand in front of Shane. He looks down at his watch, and his eyes widen. “I should probably see if my clothes are dry and get going,” he continues. 

Shane feels his expression fall briefly before he can manage to cover it up with a smile that he knows doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Steven reaches out, letting his hand rest on Shane’s wrist. “Oh, no, I wish I didn’t have to. It’s just—it’s later than I thought.”

“You can keep the shirt if you want,” Shane says, curling two fingers under the collar to pull Steven back against him; their mouths meet in another too-brief slide. “Looks good on you.” 

Steven laughs, low and soft against Shane’s mouth. “Probably shouldn’t walk into church tonight with this on.” 

They both pull back to look down at the  _ Hey Demons, it’s me… ya boi _ currently scrawled across his chest; the laughter bubbles up before either of them can stop it. “Yeah, no,” Shane grins, “that’s not a great plan.” Shane leans in to kiss Steven again. He draws away slowly. “Though definitely hilarious.” 

===

Steven gets changed in the bathroom again, leaving the borrowed clothes in a pile on the ledge of the bathtub; his pants have almost completely dried but his shirt still sticks damply to his skin when he returns to the living room. His hair has dried in awkward spikes and it makes Shane chuckle every time Steven drags his fingers through it. 

“Thank you for coming to brunch with me,” Steven says, smiling soft and sincere. He’s got his shoes slipped back on and is standing beside Shane’s door, hand hovering above the doorknob like he doesn’t really want to leave. 

“Pleasure was all mine,” Shane grins again, pulling Steven against him and kissing him deep, his tongue swipes back into the heat of Steven’s mouth and they both groan when Steven’s hands come up between them to gently push him away. “See you tomorrow?” Shane asks and Steven nods before finally opening the door and slipping out. 

Shane groans, running his hands through his hair before pressing his forehead against the closed door and sighing shakily. “Fuck,” he curses and drops his right hand down to push beneath his slacks. 

He hisses low in his throat when he gets his long fingers wrapped around the thick, hard base of his cock to slide the tight circle of his fist up along the length. Shane jerks his wrist quickly, building closer and closer to his orgasm in fast, rough strokes. 

He thinks about Steven on his lap, panting against his neck and thrusting down against him, he thinks about Steven so turned on that he spilled hot and wet into Shane’s sweatpants with a sigh of Shane’s name against his throat. 

Shane swears and groans when his hips stutter and after only several hard pumps of his cock between his fingers he soaks his hand, and comes dripping over his knuckles. 

===

Later in the week, the three of them film Watcher Weekly.

“What’d you get up to this weekend big guy?” Ryan asks. “Didn’t hear from you on Sunday, which was weird.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Shane starts, smiling in a way he knows will make Ryan too curious for his own good. “Steven and I were hanging out.” 

“What!” Ryan near-yells, looking between Shane on the couch and Steven sitting over on the chair. “What?” he repeats, lowering his voice into a question.

“Yeah man, us Midwesterners need to stick together,” Shane says and catches the quick way Steven ducks his head down into his chest to hide the quick blush of pink that spreads over his cheeks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come and find us on tumblr - [sequencefairy](http://sequencefairy.tumblr.com) & [exorin](http://ex0rin.tumblr.com).


End file.
